


The Third Night

by Prism_Streak



Category: Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats - T. S. Eliot
Genre: Angst, Gen, Some trans Tugger because there's not enough of him, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:08:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24211867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prism_Streak/pseuds/Prism_Streak
Summary: Going to the Heavyside Layer is an honor. A prize. But it's still death.Grizabella's departure was a happy occasion. Her redemption. But to the children she left behind, it was a knife twisting in an old wound.
Relationships: Munkustrap & Rum Tum Tugger
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	The Third Night

**Author's Note:**

> Another 2am fanfic
> 
> I like giving Tugger issues. I wrote this to procrastinate on my longer fic that explores them more deeply. 
> 
> Munk also has plenty of issues, don't worry. They manifest differently, and since this is from his pov they aren't as obvious. Maybe at some point I'll write a companion piece to this one in Tugger's pov, so we can take a look at how Munk handles things.

It was the third night, Munkustrap noticed, that his brother hadn't slept. Though the Jellicle moon was long gone, Tugger crept from his den every night to sit and watch the sky. It had Munkustrap worried, it wasn't healthy to go so long without a good night's rest. So on the third night, he waited until Demeter was asleep, and stole out of their den to join his brother on the top of the old, rusted car.

They sat side by side. For a long time neither spoke, they watched the stars together and listened to the silence brought by the dead of night. Tugger had not acknowledged when Munk sat down, and continued to stare into space as if he were completely alone. When the silence became agonizing, Munkustrap finally looked over at Tugger, who was still watching the stars. He nudged him, and tried his best to smile.

"Remember that story Dad told us? About the cats who go to the Heavyside Layer appearing in the stars?"

Tugger didn't speak, but he slowly turned to look at Munkustrap, just for a second. A curt nod, and his gaze was returned to the sky. 

"Are you looking for her?"

No response.

"...I miss her too." 

At this, Tugger's entire demeanor changed. He tore his eyes from the heavens, and curled in on himself. He brought his knees to his chest, and wound his tail tightly around his feet. He refused to meet Munkustrap's eyes, but at length, he responded.

"I don't miss her. I'm glad she's dead." 

" _Tugger_!"

"I am."

Tugger continued to look everywhere but at his brother, and a weight settled in Munkustrap's stomach. Tugger was upset, but he sounded sincere. 

"She wasn't so bad, you know."

"No, I don't know."

Munkustrap sighed. He knew Tugger was bitter. He had been too, for years. But there was no need for it anymore. The time had past, and you weren't supposed to speak ill of the dead. But Tugger was choosing to ignore those things.

"She doesn't deserve your hate."

"Sure."

"She could be kind, and funny. It will help more to remember good things about her."

"Because there are _plenty_ of those."

"Look, if you'd just known her-"

"BUT I DIDN'T KNOW HER!" 

For the first time since he could remember, Munkustrap was stunned into silence. For all his drama, Tugger never yelled. He rarely got angry, and when he did he sulked. He didn't yell. He never had. But his voice echoed through the junkyard now, loud enough to wake the cats below. And when Munkustrap didn't have an immediate response, he kept going.

"I NEVER GOT THE CHANCE TO KNOW HER! YOU CAN SIT THERE AND BE SAD AND TALK ABOUT HAPPY MEMORIES BECAUSE YOU HAVE THEM! SHE WAS _THERE_ FOR YOU! SHE _CARED_ ABOUT YOU! SHE ONLY STAYED AROUND ME LONG ENOUGH TO GIVE ME THE WRONG NAME BEFORE FUCKING OFF INTO OBLIVION!" 

He stopped to catch his breath. The weight in Munkustrap's stomach was growing heavier, sinking and sinking into what felt like a black hole somewhere south of his heart. Tugger was speaking again.

"Everlasting, I don't even know what excuse she used. That three was too many? That she didn't want a girl? Those worked out well," He laughed humorlessly. "She could have just left me somewhere else and spared the rest of the family the trouble." 

"She couldn't have done that. She loved you."

"No she didn't. She loved _you_. She loved Mac. Hell maybe she even loved Dad, but she left the day I was born. She left me to Dad, who left me to Mac, who went fucking crazy because of it. That's not love, it's guilt at best." 

"And at worst?"

"Indifference."

There wasn't anything Munkustrap could say. He wanted to remember his mother as she had been when he was a kitten, happy and bright and full of love. It was how she had been right up until the night she'd left them, and it had never occurred to Munkustrap that Tugger might remember her as anything different. Or not at all. He'd grown up hearing about how loving she was. Belatedly Munkustrap realized that it must have seemed like a cruel joke. 

Before he could formulate a response, come up with any sort of comfort, Munkustrap felt his brother's arms wrapping around him. Tugger's face was buried in his shoulder, and he felt his own arms move automatically to return the embrace. After a moment, Tugger spoke again. 

"I'm sorry."

"What for?" 

"Going on like that. It's not fair to you, you've just lost your mother." 

"So have you." 

Tugger pulled back a little. He was still avoiding looking Munkustrap in the eye, although this time it seemed like he was doing it for Munk's benefit rather than his own. 

"I never had a mother." 

He sat up straight, and smoothed out his mane. He checked his hair to make sure not a strand was out of place, his movements almost mechanical. He squared his shoulders, and put on the happiest fake smile he could. The one he always wore.

"And now I never will." 

He stood, and walked to the edge of the car's roof. Just short of jumping, he turned.

"Get some sleep, Munk. It's not good for you." 

And he was gone, his receding footsteps a whisper in the night air. For the third night since the Jellicle ball, Munkustrap lay awake, thinking about his brother. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment! Constructive criticism is appreciated, as long as it's phrased nicely.


End file.
